


Rhymes for Heartbroken Times

by NyamiRose



Series: Spoken Word Poetry [2]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2019-11-28 08:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyamiRose/pseuds/NyamiRose
Summary: Poetry I've written, and performed at the monthly Knoxville Poetry Slam events.This selection focuses on poems about love and breakups.





	1. The Girl

  
I was stupid, it was pretty apparent.   
And it was pretty apparent, that you had a crush on me   
But I couldn’t accept- couldn’t believe- a nice boy like you would like me   
So when she asked, I let her pursue you   
She wanted you   
I think I needed you   
I’m glad that your “relationship” is over   
Still, I guess I’m not as smart as the girl who tried to stab me   
  
Okay, I’ll admit, she’s cute   
Probably, especially to you   
(Putting your dick in a person usually helps with that)   
She’s skinnier-- duh   
Her hair is in the style I wanted, but not the color   
He skin is clearer, but not as soft   
But you’ll never know that   
Because I’m not as attractive as the girl who tried to stab me   
  
She scares me   
She’s always been violent   
Remember that time she threw a chair at the wall?   
Cause she lost at Mario Kart?   
You know, she frightens me to the point I have to leave the room she’s in   
Even if you’re in that room too   
I thought that fact would be enough for you to realize   
She’s an abusive person   
And you shouldn't have to put up with her like I did   
But I guess you don’t think I’m as sane as the girl who tried to stab me   
  
She’s always one step ahead   
She always asks you to go to the movies first   
Always invites you to all her parties before I can invite you to mine   
She always gets to spend more time with you   
That’s more time that she could hurt you   
Maybe I'm just unlucky   
Or maybe evil always prevails   
But it seems I’m not as important as the girl who tried to stab me   
  
I tried to protect you, but I wonder if I can anymore   
You try to stay neutral, and I admire that   
But you don’t realize you hurt me when you do   
It makes me feel like you don’t believe me   
When you go on in life as if you’d never heard my concerns   
I’ve told you them all so many times   
So I know I’m not as valued as the girl who tried to stab me   
  
In a way, I wish she’d hurt you now   
So you’d understand and believe me   
All at once and in an instant   
But instead I’m stressed and concerned, waiting   
For the inevitable betrayal she will inflict upon you   
I’m not the first person she’s hurt   
And you will not be the last   
But you cling to the 50% of the time that she’s a slightly “good person”   
Instead of facing the other half of the time that she spends with   
insults,   
glares,   
judgments,   
manipulations,   
violence   
and the self-loathing she takes out on others   
But it seems that I’m not as nice as the girl who tried to stab me   
  
Maybe I’m selfish, jealous…   
Maybe I’m in love   
  
I guess it doesn’t matter   
I’m not as good as the girl who tried to stab me  



	2. My Passion Is Not Succinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A poem about sexting.

My words flow from my fingers  
A cascade of raw feelings  
Filtered for your comfort  
Yet somehow still numerous and overwhelming

   
I remember.  
I serenaded you with fantasies I would have gone to the ends of the earth to fulfill  
For I never make empty promises of pleasure  
I weaved scenarios of passion like poetry  
I wrote of domination and worship like it was my magnum opus  
I felt the enlightenment of the great masters of art and literature flow through me  
My deepest desires masked by articulate prose  
My innuendo hidden in plain sight

   
And then I went deeper.  
As deep as I wanted you  
No masks now, no hiding!  
You saw past my double entendre  
And you knew they weren’t lies  
They were feather-light teases as you were tied to the bed  
Soft caresses of skin, under a desperate kiss  
They were a blindfold, but you didn’t need to see when you could feel  
You didn’t need your eyes when I could paint a masterpiece in your mind  
Georgia O'Keeffe, as informed by William Shakespeare  
Feminine flora, dictated by a Dark Lady  
I told you of the food on the table, and even without your senses  
Even when you could not see, smell, touch, hear, or taste  
You wanted nothing more than to indulge in a fine meal

   
But here I am now.  
Not as angry as others might have been  
Not as angry as I usually would be  
The dam on my emotions is standing strong  
Nothing is attempting to break loose  
There’s hardly anything to hold back  
But still, I send you my words  
Feather-light, but without a teasing intent  
Soft, but not a caress  
I wanted you to see, to feel  
But more than anything, to understand  
That even in the face of a crushing blow  
Even as I am forced to say goodbye to the future I spun with language  
Even as I am faced with the fact I left fantasies unfilled and made empty promises  
That I am still sending you poetry  
That I am still choosing words like an artist chooses their color palette  
That I am still choosing inflection to invoke an emotion  
I’ve spent paragraph after paragraph telling you this can’t work  
That your decisions have consequences  
When I realize now, I could have said this all in a single sentence  
But I didn’t.  
I couldn’t.   
Because you fell in love with a poet  
And a poet’s passion is not succinct.


	3. The Thought of the High

I stood next to you in that audience  
The stage was filled with beautiful performers  
But I couldn’t stop looking at you  
  
I wanted to hold you  
I’m starving for touch  
Even an accidental brush of your fingertips over my skin would have been enough to make me sob from joy and relief  
  
But what of your knife?  
The one hidden in your sleeve, it’s tip to be thrust into my heart, betraying your tender embrace?  
They say it’s not there  
That not everyone has a blade waiting to inflict a fatal blow.  
But how can I believe that?  
I want to.  
But I’ve been hurt before.  
  
Is it not inevitable  
That underneath any kindness you may extend to me there lies a weapon in which to break my heart and wreck my sanity?  
And is it not possible  
That if you remove my veil of infatuation there is nothing but a desperate broken girl in an adult’s body  
Who’s still naive enough to think a fleeting embrace is enough to keep her shattered pieces together  
Until the next time you greet her with a glance, a smile, a compliment, and an all-too-brief hug?  
  
Aren’t I just desperately craving another person’s touch?  
Aren’t I just addicted to the idea that you’re not such a stranger to me that you’d provide me that contact?  
That someone who I think is so beautiful cares enough to believe the same of me- and to tell me so, at that?  
  
But now, your admiration is a drug  
Your compliments and reassurances only serve to tempt me with a hit I can’t afford  
A second of you holding me close becomes weeks of torture once we part  
  
Avoiding you hurts, but perhaps I need such abstinence.  
Because I can’t even handle the thought of the high I get with you.


	4. The Thought of the High (Five Months Wiser Redux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poems written in the moment often reflect raw emotion, but not always reality. Five months later, I've gained a clearer perspective.
> 
> This poem was originally written out of my concern for a crush hurting me if I proclaimed my feelings. Now, I realize, I was actually concerned I'd hurt them.

I stood next to you in that audience  
The stage was filled with beautiful performers  
But I couldn’t stop looking at you

I wanted to hold you  
I’m starving for touch  
Even an accidental brush of your fingertips over my skin would have been enough to make me whimper in joy and relief.  
But...

I’ve never had good role models for love.  
For compassion. Nor contentment.  
I’d fear scarring you. Unintentionally, but in ways that could never heal.  
Running away from the temptation is preferable to the risk of having to watch your heart shatter at my words.  
I’d hate for that spark in your eyes to become as dim as mine.

 

And so I just stood there.  
I could have touched you, called your attention and told you my feelings.  
But I was silent. And I was still.  
I hoped for everything, but did nothing.  
Because, in the end, is it not possible  
That if you remove my veil of infatuation there is nothing but a desperate broken girl in an adult’s body  
Who’s still naive enough to think a fleeting embrace will keep her shattered pieces together  
Until the next time you greet her with a glance, a smile, a compliment, and an all-too-brief hug?  
Because, in the end, is it not possible  
That I am a fool?

Aren’t I just desperately craving another person’s touch?  
Aren’t I just addicted to the idea that you’re not such a stranger to me that you’d provide me that contact?  
That someone who I think is so beautiful cares enough to believe the same of me- and to tell me so, at that?

But now, your admiration is a drug  
Your compliments and reassurances only serve to tempt me with a hit I can’t afford  
If you had said or done what I couldn't, surely I would have overdosed.  
Avoiding you hurts, but perhaps I need such abstinence.  
Because I can’t even handle the thought of the high that I get with you.


	5. Silence Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Descriptions of violence, specifically body horror/torture

Silence me!  
Rip the dictionary I appropriate for my speech out of my hands  
And beat my skull in with it  
Destroy my misfiring synapses and rid me of my chemical imbalance  
Revel in the sight of my depraved mind splattered on the sidewalk  
And rejoice for the new era of healing you’ve heralded

Silence me!  
Don’t allow me to even open my mouth  
My words will rot you from the inside  
Rip the skin off your flesh  
And tear your flesh from your bones  
Then crush your bones to dust  
Save yourself- save everyone!

Silence me!  
Rip my throat out of my neck  
Stomp it into the ground  
Chop it up  
Then throw it into the fire  
And dance around the ashes in celebration of ending my deadly curse

Silence me!  
Pry my jaw open and pour wax down my throat  
Until I choke and drown in the sea of hurt I’ve caused others  
Don’t stop until I feel the pain I’ve caused clenching around my neck  
Nails piercing my windpipe and severing my jugular vein  
Choking every unintentional insult and offhand remark out of me  
Allow a lifetime of misused words to flow out my wounds  
To find peace outside my exsanguinated corpse

Silence me!  
I have never been capable of articulate speech  
I’ve spoken for days only to never reach my point  
And I didn’t stop when your ears started to bleed  
Instead I tried to heal you with more words!

Silence me!  
On stage I commit atrocities  
No word has ever been uttered from these lips that has benefited another soul  
Assassinate me before I can even breathe into the mic  
Before I can sow seeds of doubt  
Before I can murder you with my good intentions  
Before I commit genocide with my voice.

Silence me!  
Silence me!  
Why aren’t you silencing me?!


End file.
